The bus screamed to a stop in Nazareth, Israel. Five Australian backpackers boarded and struck up a conversation with me. They asked typical travelers' questions—where was I going and why was I traveling alone? My plan was to travel with a friend of a friend, I explained, but when I called her that morning, she didn't pick up and I had no other way to reach her. My stomach was in knots, but I decided to head out anyway, thinking I might run into her if I traveled to Tiberius, where we had planned to go together.
"Why don't you travel with us?" one of the backpackers offered. They were experienced adventurers who would work for a few months, save, then travel for as long as they could. Their current plan was to explore the Middle East and Europe in three months while working in London.
It seemed risky to travel with strangers, but my instinct said yes. For the next two weeks, I explored Israel with the backpackers and learned to trust my instincts in all types of new and interesting situations. When they hook a ride, I took the bus, but when they wanted to steal into the King David Hotel's swimming pool, I led the way. The world opened up to me because I chose to travel alone. I joined complete strangers, who become close friends. Years later, one couple from the backpacking group even flew from Sydney to Phoenix to be in my wedding. The trip was such a special experience that it gave me confidence in all areas of my life. Since then, I've backpacked alone across South Africa, sky-dived from 12,000 feet in New Zealand and even moved across the U.S. with no job lined up.
On my third day wandering in Israel with my new friends, I bumped into the woman I was supposed to meet. Though I was happy she was all right, I was grateful she hadn't picked up the phone.
